Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
STELLA
The chime of a text notification wakes me from a deep sleep. At first, I consider ignoring it, but when my brain catches up, still foggy with exhaustion, I realize where I am.
After our shower last night, Emmett and I returned to the living room with every intention of watching one episode of my favorite show before he was supposed to leave.
The plan was for him to go home, then come back over when Austin was awake, so we could tell him what’s been going on.
But here we are, on the sofa with his warm arms wrapped around me, the morning sunlight bleeding through the curtains.
“Shit,” I whine. Maybe he never looked back here when he returned.
He could’ve checked the security system and seen that Emmett used his code to get through the front gate—or the cameras to see his truck driving in—but he generally doesn’t do that without a reason.
It’s not that I care if he knows his teammate was here, since he told me that I was welcome to have visitors any time, but still. It’s awkward.
I reach forward, swiping my phone from the coffee table and clicking on the home screen. Sure enough, it’s Austin.
AUSTIN:
When you’re up and ready, could you come over here? I have something I wanted to talk to you about.
My anxiety skyrockets. That’s a phrase no girl ever wants to hear, even if it’s not her boyfriend saying it.
Is he mad at me for sneaking around with Emmett?
Did Theo tell him what happened in Jett’s hallway?
Is he going to fire me right before our time is up?
My stomach roils at the thought. Austin is more than a patient to me.
He’s a friend—one I don’t want to lose because I let a small omission go on for entirely too long.
“It’s too early to be thinking so hard, Wild Girl,” Emmett rasps, the sleepy gravel in his voice doing all kinds of things to me.
It reminds me of the weeks he’d spend away at football camp, calling as soon as his eyes opened to say he missed me.
Only now, I don’t have to settle for poorly-lit photos and videos of his morning wood, because it’s pressed right to my ass.
My anxiety fizzles out as I back up, wiggling against it while his arms tighten around me.
“Mmm,” I hum as he leisurely thrusts his hips, the slide of his erection along my panties pulling me out of my own head for several seconds before I tell him about the text I just received. “Austin wants to see me in the main house. I’m guessing he knows you’re here.”
“So?” he replies, his warm lips coasting along my neck.
“We have to come clean at some point. Why not just get it over with now?” His words take a moment to register with the way he’s working me up, teeth scraping over the sensitive skin under my ear.
My eyes flutter closed, almost falling into his trap right before I think better of it.
“Stop trying to downplay this, Em,” I groan.
“I’ve been lying to him since the moment I found out that he played for the Renegades.
I was trying to keep my past separate, so he didn’t feel like he was caught in the middle.
I figured I could avoid anything that had to do with the team and be out of here without him—or you—ever finding out. ”
He pulls away, so I turn, meeting his dubious expression. The space between his brows is scrunched, his upper lip curled in question. “And you really thought that would work?”
“Yes—no. I don’t know, Emmett!” I exclaim, trying to stand from the couch, but he only holds me tighter.
I slump into the cushions, and his low chuckle rumbles against my back as I consider elbowing him in the junk.
“He didn’t have anyone to take care of him.
I couldn’t just say sorry, can’t help you, and leave him to find someone who might have been a bad match.
For whatever reason, I was pulled to be here.
So, I trusted my gut, even though it led me to leave out some information. ”
“I’m glad you did,” he replies, kissing the back of my head. “And I’m glad you’re shitty at hiding. We needed this, Stell. Whatever happens, we had to close the door on the past so we could move forward.”
I exhale a slow, contented breath. “Me too. I need to just go in there and lay it all out for him. Hopefully, he doesn’t kick me out for being a dirty liar.”
He laughs, finally allowing me to stand. I rush to my room, throw on a pair of leggings and a thick hoodie, toss my wild hair into a messy bun, and slip on my shoes. I look atrocious, but it’s fine. The longer I wait to have this conversation, the more I’ll drive myself crazy about it.
“Let me get some clothes on,” he says when I return, sitting up and shoving his hands through his perfectly messy hair.
He stands, stretching his arms above his head as every rippling muscle in his shirtless torso pulls tight.
My mouth waters, my brain short-circuiting while I stare like an obsessed stalker.
I’m so entranced, I don’t even realize I’m busted until my eyes make their way up to the cocky smirk that’s stretched across his face.
“Huh?” I ask, brows pulling tight. I need to stop being so fucking horny right now, especially since I’m about to have a very serious talk with Austin. But godfuckingdammit, this man is a specimen.
“I’ll go with you,” he replies with a nonchalant shrug. “I’m part of this, too. I’m not going to make you do it by yourself, Stella. We’re a team.”
I shake my head, a thick lump forming in my throat. “No, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”
He reaches to the floor, pulling his pants up his legs before covering the sheer perfection of his abs with a thick hoodie. What a shame. “I know you’ll be fine. You’re always fine. But I’m still going with you. Come on.” He slides his shoes on before walking past me and pulling open the door.
I toss my head back in exasperation, dragging my feet as I trudge toward him.
I’m not used to having a supportive partner, since I’ve been on my own for years.
But I guess I’d better get used to it, because Emmett seems to be falling right back into his old role without hesitation.
He should be sneaking out right now, leaving me to explain everything to Austin.
Instead, he takes my hand and leads me toward the main house.
My nerves are raging as we walk through the entryway, the sound of music playing on the kitchen speakers and the aroma of fresh basil in the air telling us exactly where we need to go.
My heart pounds nervously in my chest, which Emmett must sense, because he squeezes my fingers gently, grounding me just as we enter the room.
Austin stands at the stove, spatula flipping what looks to be an omelet before catching us in his peripheral vision.
His eyes immediately lock onto our adjoined hands, but he doesn’t look intrigued in the least. He just smiles, turns off the burner, and plates his breakfast before spinning in our direction.
“Morning, you two,” he says with a grin.
“I trust you had a good evening.” My mouth falls open, sheer confusion running rampant inside my head because why isn’t he acting surprised?
He may have seen Emmett at the guesthouse a time or two, but other than that, he should be at least a little curious as to why we’re strutting in here together like an actual couple.
“We did,” Emmett replies. “That smells amazing. Are there any leftovers?”
Austin stabs his fork into the omelet, lifting his chin.
“In the pan. I ran out of sharp cheddar, so I had to use American.” He takes a bite, chewing as he winks in my direction.
You’d think his casualness would placate me a little, but it doesn’t.
Instead, I’m on high alert, wondering if maybe this is just how he acts when he’s upset.
What if he’s waiting for me to lower my guard so he can throw all my shit onto the front lawn before dousing it in gasoline?
The only thing I can focus on is the sound of my own pulse between my ears, my throat dryer than a cotton ball until I finally word-vomit the very last thing anyone in this room wants to hear, myself included.
“We fucked last night, okay?” I shout, throwing my arms up and letting them fall dramatically.
They hit my thighs with a slap, and both men lift their eyes to me, brows disappearing into their hairlines at the same time.
I should quit while I’m ahead. The confession is officially off my chest for Austin to do whatever he will with. But do I keep my mouth shut?
Fuck no.
“Yeah,” I say, nodding like a maniac as I smack a palm onto the counter.
“Emmett got it. It’s not the first time, either.
In fact, we used to be married—before I ran away like an idiot.
We’ve fucked hundreds of times, in lots of different places.
But most recently…you know”—I gesture vaguely—“last night in the guesthouse.” My chest is heaving like I just ran a marathon as they both stay completely frozen, staring at me like I’m insane.
Sweat beads on the back of my neck, and I tap my foot against the marble floor in an attempt to rid my body of the copious amounts of nervous energy still running through it.
“Well, that was a little more descriptive than I was expecting,” Emmett mumbles, setting his plate down and walking toward me.
“You okay, Wild Girl? You freaked out a little on us just then.” His hands find my cheeks, thumbs rubbing soothingly over my skin to calm me.
Just like it always has, it works like a charm, snapping me back to reality right as Austin chuckles from across the room.
“I already knew all of that.”
Emmett and I both whip our heads in his direction, stunned at his words.
“All of it?” I ask. “How?”